Her Savior
by mashimoshi
Summary: The Queen gets kidnapped by someone who wants revenge. Aramis risks his life to save her … and ends up getting captured along with his lover. Will they make it out? Or will they die trying?
1. Chapter 1

**A new story! I'm actually really excited for this one. I hope you enjoy!**

 **Please, make sure to read and review. I love all your feedback!**

 **-M**

* * *

Prolouge:

"Where is she?!" he yelled, struggling against his chains. "Where is the Queen?!"

"Come now, Aramis," his captor said, smiling. "You should know that you will _never_ see her again."

"I'm going to kill you!" Aramis roared. "Tell where she is, damn you!"

Rochefort's brother smiled wider. "You will never see your lover again, Aramis," he said. "I will make sure of it."

XxXxX

Chapter 1:

"I have terrible news," King Louis announced when everyone, including the Musketeers made it to the Throne Room. "The Queen … had been kidnapped."

Gasps erupted.

Aramis' eyes widened. The Queen - Anne? Kidnapped? He took a small step back, running a, now, shaking hand through his hair.

Right at that time, a courier burst through the doors. "I have a message for the King!" he exclaimed, bowing. He gave the letter to His Highness, who read it as fast he possibly could.

"It says here," he began. "That the Queen's kidnapper, who, for now, is unknown, wants to meet the Musketeers, Aramis, d'Artagnan, Porthos, and Athos at the garrison in one hour." He looked at them. "I expect you to find this man, bring the Queen back, and then kill this monster. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Your Majesty" Athos was quick to say.

They each bowed, and then took their leave, Aramis the first one to run out the doors and leave the Palace.

XxXxX

They arrived at the garrison with ten minutes to spare. Aramis began to pace the second he got off of his horse.

"Aramis, calm down," Porthos finally said when he couldn't stand to watch his friend pace like that anymore. "Everything will be just fine."

"Porthos, the Queen has been kidnapped," Aramis replied, his voice tight and strained. "And somehow, I have a great feeling that it is my fault … so of course I'm pacing. And I can't calm down either."

"And you have great reason not to be," an unfamiliar, cold voice said.

Aramis spun around, his eyes falling on a man dressed in all black. He watched as the stranger took of his hood, revealing a face that was familiar to everyone.

"Who are you?" Athos asked.

"I … am Philip de Rochefort," the man said. "I am the brother of the man you brutally killed."

Aramis gasped quietly, his eyes widening. "And you kidnapped the Queen for revenge?" he asked, rage taking hold of him when Philip nodded. "Where is she?!" he yelled suddenly. Porthos had to hold him back as he tried to lunge at his new enemy.

"Not just yet, Monsieur Aramis," Philip said. "I have a proposal."

Athos nodded his approval for his friend when seeing that Aramis was completely frozen in place.

"Aramis comes with me, and the Queen will be released from my custody," Philip began. "If you don't willingly surrender, I will take you by force, and will make you watch as I kill your lover … slowly and painfully."  
"You touch even a strand of hair from her head, and I swear I will-"

Philip cut Aramis off with a cold laugh. "So do you accept this deal?" he asked, his eyes darkening.

"Aramis, think before you do anything," d'Artagnan said quietly. "Please."

The man turned around to face his young friend, and gifted him with a small, warm smile. "I will be alright, d'Artagnan," he said.

"Mis…," Porthos started, confused as to what was about to happen. He prayed it wasn't what he thought it was …

"I accept your offer!" Aramis finally said, turning around.

"Wonderful!" Philip exclaimed, clapping his hands. "You will now follow me, and when we get to our next location, we will let your lover go."

"Mis, no," Porthos tried to say, but it was too late.

Aramis walked towards Philip, head down, fists clenched. He heard someone snap their fingers, but think it was at all important. What was important … was the Queen.

And the the next thing he knew, something hard slammed into the back of his head. He heard screams and the sounds of fighting before he fell into complete darkness.

XxXxX

"Aramis!" someone was saying. She sounded familiar.

Slowly, the Musketeer opened his tired eyes, and saw Anne sitting in front of him, clearly worried.

"Anne!" he exclaimed, about to come closer to her, but was held back by strong chains. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?" He shook his head in frustration. "He was supposed to let you go…"

The placed her hand on his arm and shook her head. "I'm okay," she said, pausing for a moment before asking, "Who did this?"

Aramis sighed and started looking around their cell. It was a large room made of rock, the ground dirt. The set of chains holding Aramis were on one side of the room, not even letting him stand. There was another set of the same type of chains on the opposite side of them. A door was in between the offending objects.

"Rochefort's brother," he finally said, when learning everything he could about their surroundings. He threw his head back against the door.

Anne gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

"Hey, I will get you out," Aramis assured. "U will get you out if it's the last thing I do."

The Queen nodded in understanding. She crawled over to him; thankfully she wasn't chained, she thought. She reached behind Aramis' head, his blood staining her fingers. "Oh my God, Aramis!" she said. "You're injured!"

The man grabbed her hand and squeezed gently. "I'm alright," he said. "This nothing by a scratch."

Anne frowned, but didn't say anything. Instead, she scrambled into his arms, her head falling against his strong chest. She felt him hug her, his hand running through her, now, dirty hair.

"Does he know?" she suddenly asked.

Aramis looked down at her and nodded. "Yes, he does. He wants revenge … for what we did to Rochefort…" He paused. "This is all my doing. I should have made sure we were completely safe-"

All of a sudden, the door opened …

… and Philip de Rochefort walked in, a bright smile on his face. His weapon's belt was full of cruel looking instruments. Aramis could barely stand to look at them all. He shivered slightly.

Aramis pushed Anne behind him out of instinct, not letting go of her small shaking hand.

"What do you want?" he asked coolly.

Philip didn't reply … suddenly reached out and pulling Anne from Aramis' hold.

"Don't you dare touch her!" he screamed. "I swear, I will kill you if you even-"

"Empty threats, my friend!" Philip exclaimed, smiling.

He pulled out a gun from his weapon's belt, and pressed it to Anne's head.

The poor Queen was shaking, visibly terrified. Tears were streaming down her face.

Aramis hated to see her like this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, I already have writers block for this story. I don't know why. I'm so sorry I didn't update yesterday, I just couldn't make anything up. I hope I made it up by giving you all a crap load of Aramis whump!**

 **Yep, this has turned into Aramis whump. I forgot to tell you that in the beginning, that that is what I was aiming for in this story. I hope you enjoy. I will try to make another update today as well to make up for yesterday. No promises, though.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for all the support you have already given me! It means a lot!**

 **Don't forget to read and review!**

 **-M**

* * *

"Let her go," he said, this time calmly. "I will not argue no more, just please, let the Queen go … and do whatever you want to me."

Philip grinned. "Very well," he said.

He pushed Anne into the wall, and she gasped when she felt a stinging sensation on her temple and the feeling of blood dripping down her face. She turned around just in time to see Aramis let off the chains. He was taken out of the room, and then she was alone. She sank down against the wall, shivering, both out of fear and cold. In a few minutes, she heard Aramis groaning, and she wondered what it was that Philip was doing to him.

Finally, in what seemed like hours, Aramis was thrown back into the cell. He cried out as he slid against a wall, curling into himself. (Thankfully, nobody chained him.) The door closed with a slam, and Anne instantly rushed over to him, gasping at the injuries that now covered his body.

Knife wounds were all over his chest, some bleeding, some not. There was a long cut going down from his forehead to his neck, slightly shedding blood. But the wound that really caught her eye … was the burn mark on his side.

She gasped. "He branded you," she whispered, reaching down to touch the burn.

Aramis flinched away.

The burn was in the shape of the letter R: Rochefort. It was terrible to look at.

Anne shivered. "Oh, Aramis," she muttered.

He didn't reply.

Anne quickly gathered him onto her lap, wanting to provide at least some comfort. She stroked his hair as he trembled, watching his body twitch every time he felt pain.

But then something struck Aramis. He forced himself to look up and saw the small cut on Anne's face from when Philip pushed her. He reached a shaking hand to touch it. "You … hurt?"

Anne took his hand away, holding it close to her chest. "It does not hurt," she replied. "Just focus on getting some rest."

The injured man shook his head. "Cannot…," he mumbled. "If he … comes b-back…"

"Please, Aramis."

Tears were now falling down Anne's cheeks. She couldn't understand how her lover was caring more about her than himself, even though he was the one who was hurt.

When seeing this, Aramis sat up slowly, wincing in pain. When he felt comfortable enough, he leaned in and kissed Anne on her forehead. "I … will be … alright," he whispered.

The Queen smiled weakly, and then helped him back down on her lap again. He continue to tremble, as if unable to stop. He was just in so much pain … pretty soon, he fell asleep from pure exhaustion. Anne kept her fingers in his curly locks as she watched him rest.

He was so peaceful, she thought. But at the same time … he wasn't. His body wouldn't stop shaking, and his mouth was open in a silent scream. He looked tired, which is why Anne had urged him to sleep.

But pretty soon, he started having nightmares. It began with random mumbling … but soon turned into quiet whimpers. Soon, he was screaming, begging for someone to stop.

Rochefort, the Queen realized, and a wave of sadness washed over her.

"Aramis, please wake up," she said, placing her hand on his shoulder. "It's just a nightmare. You need to wake up. Come on now, Aramis, please."

The poor man gasped, his eyes opening and darting around his surroundings. When realizing where he was, he sighed and sank into Anne's arms, breathing heavily. Sweat covered his face and body, but he was still shivering. "Anne?" he asked.

"I'm here," she said. "I'm here."

"Has he come?" he then said.

Anne shook her head. "No."

He sighed again. "He will soon," he replied, and shuddered.

XxXxX

Aramis was right; Philip did come, not taking his captive out of the room this time. "We will try something different today!" he announced. He took out a whip.

Anne gasped. "You wouldn't!" she cried.

Philip grabbed Aramis and shoved him onto the ground. The poor man groaned, his body tensing. "I would if it meant getting revenge for my brother, who died on his behalf," he heard Philip say.

The first kiss of the whip took him by surprise and he gasped, pain flourishing all throughout his body. The second time was much more painful, and Aramis couldn't hold in a stuffed groan. On the tenth hit, he screamed, his voice cracking. Each scream was broken by each hit, which were slowly becoming stronger and stronger.

"Don't look, Your Highness!" Aramis exclaimed. "Please, whatever you do, just don't look!"

The poor Queen was frozen. Her lover's words echoed in her mind but they didn't register. "Stop!" she finally was able to say. "Any more of this and he'll die!"

"Then I guess you will have to save him," Philip sneered.

He hit Aramis one more time before walking towards the door, the end of the whip trailing over the limp man's body. Aramis shivered.

Philip opened the door and took out a crate. He walked back to Anne and dropped the box beside her. Taking a closer look, Anne saw that it was filled with medical supplies. She sighed with relief.

"I would get on this right away, my Queen," Philip continued. "You see, if you do not, your precious Aramis will get an infection in his wounds. And then he definitely will not make it … tick, tock. Tick, tock." He kicked Aramis towards her, and she caught his trembling form, kissing his forehead and stroking his hair.

Philip smiled … and finally left. .

Anne reached for the crate, beginning to look at what she had. "Aramis, you have to tell me what to do," she said softly. "I cannot do this without your help, and you cannot die. Please, just find some strength."

Aramis groaned, but nodded jerkily. "Is there … maybe … a bottle o-of alcohol … in there?" he asked, his voice incredibly weak.

"Y-yes, there is," Anne replied in an equally shaking voice. But it wasn't out of pain, it was out of fear.

"Pour … it on my … wounds," Aramis said.

"Won't it hurt?" Anne questioned.

"Y-yes. But you have to do it … anyway. I will lean … a-against the wall … while you pour. Do not stop … no matter what you here. When you finish with … at least … half the bottle … and the wounds seem c-clean … stash it away … and then you will have t-to wrap my entire … upper body as t-t-tight as you can. Alright…?"

Anne nodded. "I will do my best."

The poor man managed to smile. "Now, g-go on."

Once Aramis was positioned correctly, Anne took out the bottle of wine and began pouring it atop Aramis' back. The marksman tried to hard not to scream, but failed. He cried out in pain as the burning liquid just kept on coming. And then it finally stopped.

Aramis gasped, trying to take deep breaths.

Next, Anne did as he told her, and began wrapping Aramis' entire upper body. When she finished, Aramis collapsed to the ground, all energy leaving him.

Anne gathered him into his arms and sat against the wall again, listening to Aramis' breathing.

"It will be okay, Aramis," she began saying, tears in her eyes.. "Treville and the others will find us … we will be alright."

Aramis looked up, his hand cupping her cheek. "I know," he whispered. "I know."

With that, he let his head drop down on her lap, and he was once again asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Third chapter! Aramis's everywhere! One very smart reader had left a very nice review, but was confused about why Philip de Rochefort was going after Aramis, but not d'Artagnan, since he was the one who killed Rochefort. All, or at least most of it, will be explained in this chapter.**

 **I hope you enjoy! Please, don't forget to read and review!**

 **-M**

* * *

They were left alone for about five days, although neither of them were able to tell. In that time, Aramis' wounds healed … but it wasn't enough. He had developed a such a nasty fever, that even Anne's comfort wasn't enough to at least some of the ease the pain and exhaustion. They sat in silence, with Aramis snuggled against the Queen, who was stroking his head gently.

"Why is he doing this?" she finally asked, and she felt Aramis jump. "Doesn't he know … that d'Artagnan delivered the final blow?"

Aramis tried to sit up, failing. "Because we are … the most v-vulnerable," he said shakily. "Rochefort probably … contacted his brother … and told him all about his plans … and accomplishments. He probably told h-him about … us. So when we … killed him … he decided to take out his revenge on us."

He collapsed then, exhaustion washing over him. He felt Anne take his hand, and he squeezed it gently for reassurance. She pulled him into her arms, kissing the top of his head. "Rest, now," she said.

Aramis shook his head. "No more," he said. "Too many … nightmares."

The Queen sighed. "Then talk to me," she continued. "Tell me a story … how you became a Musketeer?"

The man chuckled but instantly regretted it. He wrapped his arms around his ribs as he tried to sit up, this time succeeding. "Alright," he said. "I was one … of the first people to join the regiment. I honestly do not know … why Treville picked me. I guess he saw something in me."

Anne smiled. "Well I know why he did," she told him and received a small smile in return.

"Anyway, he took me in … trained me. It was fun and all … until the Savoy Massacre." He shivered. "That battle destroyed me. It-" His breathing hitched, and his eyes widened.

Her Majesty quickly placed her hand on his arm and nodded. She understood.

Aramis was about to say something, when the door opened again. He jumped.

"You know, I would have thought you would have been dead by now," Philip said as he walked into the cell. "I did not expect you to be so strong. I am still determined to change that."

He grabbed Aramis, smiling when his prisoner groaned. He threw him back onto the dirty ground, his gaze falling on Anne.

"Don't touch her!" Aramis yelled. "Whatever you do, don't you dare touch her."

Philip laughed. He suddenly took Anne by the arm, and began pulling her out of the room. Aramis wasn't able to get up in time, and when the door closed, he fell, tears on the verge of falling down his face.

He prayed that this monster of a man wasn't going to do anything bad to Anne. He pleaded with God, slowly beginning to realize that his God had left him. He began falling into unconsciousness .And this time he embraced it.

XxXxX

"Have you found anything yet?" Treville asked his three remaining Musketeers.

"It's like they just walked off this Earth," Athos replied, shaking his head. "We haven't been able to find anything."

Porthos roared suddenly, turning around and punching a wall. "Where the hell is he?!" he yelled.

"Porthos, calm down!" Athos snapped. "We're all worried about him."

The big man sighed, running his hand through his hair. "And what about the Queen?" he muttered. "What is that bastard doing to him?"

D'Artagnan walked over to him then, placing his hand on his shoulder. "They will be fine," he said. "Aramis will protect her. He will do everything in his power to keep her safe. And he won't die either … he's too stubborn."  
Porthos chuckled weakly. "Yeah…," he murmured.

"Well, tell me if you have anything," Treville said.

When his best men nodded, he spun on his heel and walked away from the table they were sitting at and into his office. When he sat back down at his desk, he took a deep breath, his head in his hands. Aramis, his best Musketeer, and one of his best friends, kidnapped and probably tortured. He couldn't stand to think about it … he still wondered what condition he would be in if they found him.

No!

Not if. Never if.

When.

Treville sighed.

 _Please, Aramis,_ he thought. _Please be there when we find you._

XxXxX

"I want to kill Philip," Porthos said, yawning. They had been trying to find clues for the last couple of hours; it was now about midnight. "We haven't found _anything_ that could help us!"

"We have to keep looking," Athos said. "We have to find him. It has already been a week. And if I'm right, I do not think that Aramis, or the Queen, will be able to survive for much longer."  
Porthos growled. "Well thanks for making me feel better," he muttered.

D'Artagnan scoffed. "Hang in there, my friend," he said. "Aramis will be alright."

"I hope so…," Porthos said.

"Well, I know so," the youngster assured. "Like I said, Aramis a one stubborn man, and he won't die that easily."  
Porthos fell onto the bench, rubbing his eyes. "Hang in there, Aramis," he said quietly. "We are going to find you and get you back. I swear to you. Just please, hang in there."

XxXxX

Aramis lay there for what seemed like hours. He waited, and waited, and waited for Anne to come back … but Philip still wasn't letting her go. A tear fell down his cheek as he thought of what he was doing to her.

He continued laying there, motionless … but shivering.

He was just about to drift into unconsciousness when the door opened. His eyes snapped open …

… but he sighed when it was Philip who walked in.

"Oh, that was rude," Philip said, pouting. "I thought you would be happy to see me."

"Where is she?" Aramis asked coldly, trying hard to stay calm.

"Don't you remember? I told you, you would never see her again. And you won't."

"YOU BASTARD!" Aramis cried, lunging at him, despite his injuries.

Philip easily took him down. He then dragged him over to his set of chains and restrained him, a smirk on his face the entire time.

"Where is she?!" Aramis kept on screaming, struggling against his chains. "Where is the Queen?!"

"Come now, Aramis," his captor said, smiling. "You should know that you will never see her again."

"I'm going to kill you!" Aramis roared. "Tell where she is, damn you!"

Rochefort's brother smiled wider. "You will never see your lover again, Aramis," he said. "I will make sure of it."

Aramis finally calmed down, hanging his head. "Where is she?" his voice turned into a whisper.

Philip picked his captive's chin with his finger. "You will never see her again," he said.

He let go of his chin … and Aramis hung his head in shame.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter four! So sorry for the long wait! I still hope that you enjoy. This isn't the most angsty chapter, but the next few definitely will be. Hopefully.**

 **Please, make sure to read and review and give me feedback. I already love all the support you all have been giving me, so I thank you all again.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **-M**

* * *

Weeks passed … but Aramis couldn't tell. For all he knew, it could have been a few days.

Philip came in everyday, torturing him and mocking him. Aramis took it, never trying to get out. What was the point anyway?

The poor man was whipped, beaten, and knifed brutally. It was like Philip wanted to see him scream, but he never did. He stopped showing anymore emotion, with an exception of a couple of grunts. Philip continued to grow angrier, and began to punish Aramis even harder. He still didn't show any emotion.

But he felt himself fading … slowly. He felt the last few bits of his life leaving him, one small piece one day at a time. He only hoped that his friends would find him before the last bit left him for good.

XxXxX

"I know where they are!" Athos exclaimed, barging into Treville's room with Porthos and d'Artagnan right behind him.

"What?!" Treville asked, his eyes growing big.

"He is in the catacombs. One of the abandoned rooms that were left there," the Musketeer explained. "I am positive that the Queen is there as well."

"Well then let's go!" Porthos said, his hand traveling towards his sword.

"We need to make a plan, Porthos…," Athos began.

"Aramis wouldn't wait to come for any of us!" Porthos yelled, furious.

They all went silent.

After a couple of moments, Treville finally said, "Porthos is right, Athos. Let us go. Hopefully, you are right."

In a couple of hours, the four men arrived at the Paris catacombs … and without hesitating, they walked in, beginning their search for the Queen and Aramis.

Athos was the one who found Anne. She was locked in one the rooms, like he thought, chains wrapping around her wrists, which were badly bruised. She was asleep, dirt covering her face and clothes. Athos ran over to her, falling on her knees beside her still body. "Your Majesty," he said softly. "This is Athos. We've come to rescue you. Come on, you have to wake up."

Anne slowly opened her eyes, and gasped when she saw one of her Musketeers in front of her. "Oh God, where is Aramis?" she said, her eyes darting around the room.

"D'Artagnan and Porthos are trying to find him," Athos replied. "They will find them. My worry right now is trying to get Your Highness out."

The Queen nodded. "Okay," she said.

Athos quickly got her out of the catacombs, and then began making his way to the Palace.

In the meantime, d'Artagnan and Porthos rushed through the catacombs, searching frantically for their friend. And finally they found him.

Philip was with him. He was beating Aramis, using all of his strength.

Without thinking, Porthos took out his musket and took his shot, sending a bullet into the sadist's head. The man fell to the ground, going still. Not paying attention to him any further, the two Musketeers dashed over to Aramis.

Porthos gathered him in his arms, sighing.

Aramis was pale, way too pale. He was covered in wounds from head to toe, each injury worse than the other. The two that Porthos thought were the worst … were the burn on his side in the shape of an 'R,' and the brutal whip lashes on his back.

"Mis," he began. "Mis, please wake up. I'm here, I've got you. You can go home now."

"Hmm?" Aramis groaned, his cloudy eyes slowly opening. "H-home?" he whispered, his head falling on Porthos' chest.

"Home … the garrison," d'Artagnan said, taking Aramis' hand; thankfully it wasn't injured.

"Ho-home…," Aramis stated, his voice fading. Clearly, it was damaged.

"Don't talk, Mis," Porthos said. "Just close your eyes. I will pick you up and carry you out, and then we will go home. Alright?"

Aramis nodded.

Porthos easily picked his friend up, gasping at his light weight. He heard Aramis moan quietly, but knew that he dwell on it. In a few long minutes, Porthos and d'Artagnan got out of the catacombs, and began making their way back home, carrying their precious burden along with them.

"We're almost there, my friend," Porthos murmured in Aramis' ear, who was sitting on his horse, leaning against him. "Just hold on a little longer."

Finally, they arrived home. The minute he got off his horse, Porthos got Aramis down and carried him into his room. D'Artagnan called for a doctor, who was thankfully able to arrive right away.

"I have never treated so many injuries before," he said while examining Aramis.

"Can you help him?" Porthos asked in an agitated voice.

"Yes."

It took the doctor over six hours to men all of Aramis' wounds. In that time, Athos had come back to the garrison, reporting that the Queen was now safe. When the medic left, he gave the three Musketeers strict instructions as to what to do to help their friend.

"Give him these sleeping and pain medicines every day," he explained. "The sleeping ones are to help him battle with the nightmares he _will_ be having. The ones for pain are to help him deal with the after effects of everything that he has suffered. He, unfortunately, will be struggling for a long time to get over this. I would suggest to stay with him all the time, just in case. Now, as for the Queen, I would guess and say that he does not know that she is okay. He will probably want to see her … make sure that he does. It will do him some good."

"Of course," Athos replied.

With that, the doctor left.

And then the wait for Aramis to wake up started. And they all knew that it was not going to end soon.

Porthos sat himself beside Aramis on a chair, holding his hand tightly. D'Artagnan sat on the bed, his fingers running through his friend's hair. And Athos sat at the foot of the bed, just watching Aramis breathe, trying to convince himself that he was alive and that he would definitely recover.


	5. Chapter 5

**A new chapter! YAYYYYYYYYYYYYY! I sorta lied when saying that this was going to have a lot of whump in it, but this time, I promise there will be some in the next chapter! I hope you enjoy!**

 **Thanks for all the support; keep it up by reviewing!**

 **-M**

* * *

Anne woke up dazed and confused. Constance was sitting beside her.

"Your Majesty!" she exclaimed, rushing over to her side. She quickly adjusted her pillows so she would be sitting upright. "How are you feeling?"

"Where is Aramis?" she asked. "Is he safe? Is he awake? I need to see him."

"Aramis is back at the garrison, still resting," Constance replied, holding the Queen's hands in her own. "His injuries were horrifying from what I saw. Unfortunately, he has began having nightmares. The others could barely hold him down when he has them."

The Queen's eyes grew wide. "I have to see him," she whispered.

"Right now, you need more rest," Constance said. "And time. When Aramis wakes up, he will want to see you as well. Once he heals at least enough so he can walk, then he will come to the Palace and you can see him. I am sorry, Your Majesty, but it is the only way we could think of."

After a few seconds of silence, Anne nodded, tears forming in her eyes. "It's alright," she said.

"He will be okay…," Constance tried to assure her. "His wounds will heal, and then he will go back to being himself. I promise you."

Anne nodded again, closing her eyes and letting the tears trickle down her face.

XxXxX

Athos, Porthos, and d'Artagnan waited for Aramis to wake up for, what seemed like years, but was really only a few days.

Throughout those hard times, Aramis suffered greatly. The nightmares were terrible, and often times, Porthos would have to gather his friend in his arms and wait them out; it seemed to be the only thing that could calm him down. Porthos kept wishing that it was him who got this punishment, not Aramis … but it was too late now. So he continued holding Aramis' shaking body, praying that it would all be over soon.

Athos wouldn't stop pacing. He really wanted to punch something. Sometimes he would stop and begin to stare at Aramis, trying to calm himself down, telling himself that everything was going to be alright. It wasn't working. It still hurt too much.

And d'Artagnan just kept silent, his gaze always on Aramis, never straying away. It was like he couldn't believe that this was happening … and in truth, he really couldn't.

Constance even stopped by a few times with food for the three men keeping a steady vigil over their injured friend, and to also catch up on how Aramis was doing so she could report back to Anne, who was desperately waiting for him to wake up.

Finally … he did.

It was slow and painful, but his beautiful chocolate brown eyes finally opened. They were full of confusion, but slowly he realized that he was safe. He sank down into the covers, wincing and letting out a groan.

"Take it easy, Mis," Porthos said, helping him sit up. "You're back at the garrison - you're safe."

Aramis closed his eyes. "The Queen?" he asked, his voice weak.

"She is safe," Athos answered. "She has been waiting to see you."

The man nodded. "I thought Philip had killed her," he whispered. "Is she … uninjured?"

"Her wrists are bruised but Philip did not hurt her," Athos said. "Constance said that she made a full physical recovery… but …"

"Mentally - not so much?" Aramis guessed.

"When you recover, you could go see her. It would be good for the both of you."

He nodded again. "Is Philip dead?"

Porthos nodded and smiled tiredly. "Took the final final shot myself. He's gone for good."

"Thank God," Aramis breathed out. He looked up at Porthos and whispered a broken, "Thank you."

Porthos, in return, took his hand and squeezed. "No. Thank you … for holding on."

"Ha … you cannot get rid of me _that_ easily, Porthos."

D'Artagnan chuckled, the first sound he had made in a while. "And we are so grateful that we can't," he said.

Aramis smiled, his eyes, although tired and clouded, shining ever so gently.

XxXxX

After many nights of nonstop nightmares and pain, Aramis was finally able to get back up on his feet. And once he was sure he could walk long distances, his friends took him to the Palace.

As he waited Anne, he began to see flashbacks of his captivity with Philip de Rochefort and he shivered. It would have gotten worse if the Queen hadn't burst through the doors then.

She sent her maid away, and then closed the doors to the room they were standing in. They were alone.

For what seemed like the longest time, Aramis and Anne just stared at each other, not sure on what to say.

Anne started examining her lover, her eyes filling with tears when she saw his forced stance, his trembling body, and his pain filled expression. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he was even paler than the last time she saw him.

"Anne…," Aramis began in a cracking voice. Tears were forming in his eyes, too.

She walked over to him, smiling brokenly when he did the same. When they were close enough, Anne finally wrapped her arms around him, beginning to sob. He felt him shaking against her, his mind having trouble controlling his body.

Aramis groaned quietly, but still managed to embrace her, tears streaming down his face. He kissed her forehead, resting his chin on the top of her head. "I thought I would never see you again," he murmured. "I thought that bastard had killed you."

Anne looked up, her hand traveling to his tear stained cheek. "He did not," she said. "I am safe and unharmed. I am here." She placed her hand on his chest. "You must be in so much pain," she whispered.

The Musketeer shook his head. "I will be alright."

Anne laughed. "You said that the last time," she said.

Aramis couldn't help it; he kissed her hard, needing to feel some kind of reassurance. Anne kissed him back, trying her best to be as gentle as possible. She tasted his tears in her mouth, which caused more of her own to fall down her face.

"If anything happened to you, Anne," Aramis said in between kisses. "What would I have done? I need you."

"I am here with you now," the Queen replied. "Everything is going to be just fine."

Her lover nodded.

Suddenly, he moaned, his legs giving out on him as he fell.

Anne quickly caught him and helped him up. "Would you like to stay here for the night?" she asked.

He looked up. "What about … the King?" he asked breathlessly.

"He will not suspect anything," she replied. "He had told me that he wanted to thank you … for making sure I came home safe. I will talk to him."

Aramis closed his eyes, clearly in pain. "Alright," he said.


	6. Chapter 6

**Alright, so I know this is a really short chapter, but I seriously needed to end this story before the week starts. I already have a lot of other ideas.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this story. I know that this is a sudden ending, but I'm really bad with them, and have to get better soon. Still, I hope you liked reading it, as much as I loved writing it. It has been really fun. I can't wait to share more of my work with you all!**

 **Please, don't forget to read and review, like always, and maybe give me ideas/prompts of what you would like me to write next.**

 **And now, without further ado, here is the last chapter! Enjoy!**

 **-M**

* * *

"I want to thank you, Aramis," the King said, rising from his throne. "For getting Her Majesty home safely. I know you sacrificed a lot."

Aramis bowed his head slightly. "I would happily do it again if I had to," he said, his voice laced with pain and exhaustion.

"Your Highness, I was thinking of letting Aramis stay at the Palace tonight, as a token of our gratitude," Anne said, not taking her eyes off of her savior.

"I think that is a wonderful idea!" Louis exclaimed, clapping his hand. Turning back to his Musketeer, he said, "You are welcome to stay here. Let this show our thanks."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Aramis said, bowing again. Pain suddenly ripped through him, but he forced himself to hold it back. "Your kindness will never be forgotten."

In a few hours, everyone in the Palace was sound asleep.

Everyone except for Aramis.

He was tossing and turning, mumbling indistnictly, begging, moaning …

… and finally, he screamed.

He heard someone burst through the doors, a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Aramis," a familiar voice said. "Aramis, it is just a nightmare."

"You're Majesty, what is going on?" another familiar voice said; Aramis thought that it was the King who spoke.

"He is having a nightmare, Sire," a woman's voice replied. "He needs to wake up. Now … Aramis, come now, wake up. Everything is alright; you are safe."

Anne gasped when Aramis screamed again, his voice breaking.

"Please … no … don't!" he yelled. "Don't touch her!"

"Aramis!" Anne cried.

Finally, Aramis gasped awake. He whimpered, pushing himself as far away from the Queen as possible. He ended up falling off the bed, groaning from the impact and curling into himself.

Anne sighed. Looking at the King, she said, "Your Majesty, it will be okay. I just want to calm him down. You may leave."

Once Louis left, Anne rushed to Aramis' shaking body and gathered him in her arms. "It's alright," she whispered in his ear. "Everything is okay. This is Anne … I have you."

In a few minutes, Aramis finally managed to calm himself. He collapsed against Her Majesty, trying to take deep breaths. "A-Anne?" he asked, his voice shaking, his breathing labored.

"I'm right here," she replied, beginning to stroke his unruly hair. "It's alright."

"He's haunting me," Aramis said. "He will not leave me alone."

"He is gone. He cannot touch you. He will not touch you. You are safe."

Aramis lost it. He burst into tears, burying his head in her dress. His shoulders shook violently, and his body trembled. "He will not … leave me alone," he repeated. "Oh God, Anne…"

"Shhhh, stay calm," the Queen said, kissing the top of his head. "Just breathe … just breathe."

The man slumped against her, sighing, the tears streaming down his face.

XxXxX

Anne managed to get Aramis back on his bed and stayed with him all night.  
She tried hard to keep him calm, but every once in a while, his nightmares came back, each one worse than the other. Soon enough, he couldn't take it anymore.

So Anne took him out to the garden, where she walked with him until he couldn't walk any further. She then brought him bakc to the Palace, and put him back to sleep.

When he woke up the next time, Anne was still with him.

And that continued for days.

Pretty soon, his wounds completely healed. But his mind … not as much.

He still suffered from the nightmares, and he still suffered from the God awful memories that plagued him every day.

But Anne and his friends were with him. He knew that they would never leave him. And he was grateful for it. No matter what, he knew that they would always be by his side, ready to help.

And Aramis would always be thankful.


End file.
